Tested by Lothar

TESTED BY LOThAR

CHAPTER 1

AWAKENINGS

Written by: Charles E. Campbell

(With this story, it is my intent to begin exceptionally slow, trying to create a sense of the situations, background, and circumstances leading to a young woman’s willful slavery and ownership. It is written in three chapters, building slowly at first, and then rapidly escalating as her ultimate life long goal is finally achieved.)

   Butterflies in the stomach? Butterflies? Talk about a God damned understatement. I’d like to know what fucking moron coined that ridiculous phrase? Butterflies? Hell, my whole stomach felt more like an entire herd of stampeding horny, rabid water buffaloes on crack was bouncing around in there. Cramps, nausea, dry mouth, diarrhea, rapid pulse..........you name it, I’ve fucking got it in spades, for Christ’s sake. No way could this can ever be equated with graceful, light and dainty butterflies flittering about aimlessly. No fucking way in hell!

   What, you might ask, could possibly be the cause of such anxiety, trepidation, nervousness, and malaise? “THE TEST,” that’s what. “THE TEST.” At least that’s what m’LORD calls it. “THE TEST.” Today is going to be my final test. The culmination of many much smaller tests that I have endured, and passed, over the last two and a half years! ( And don’t think that just because the other ones were smaller that they were easy, either. They weren’t! ) If I pass this one, to HIS exacting and rigid standards, then I will be permitted to become HIS slave. No more concerns, except to serve HIM. No more decisions for me to make ever again. HE would do that. No more needs. HE would decide what they were and see to them. If I pass this test, I will be elevated to the status of sex slave to a man I have not yet even met! For the remainder of my days, I will serve HIM, please HIM, obey HIM. No limits, or restrictions, or safe words. I will be placing my entire being in HIS hands, and it will be HE who decides my fate.

   I’m sure that you’re asking yourself how I got here. How I arrived at this crucial point in my life. How did a twenty year old girl, barely out of her teen years reach this point of no return. (I know I’d be asking that if I was the one reading this). Well, the short answer is, I got here in a very roundabout fashion, that’s for sure! My journey, however, has been a long one, and it stretches back over many years. (Most of my life, if truth be told, and that’s what I’m aiming to tell. The truth, all of it, and nothing less. m’LORD requires that I do this as a part of “THE TEST”).

   I can date the starting point of my journey back to the age of about five or six, actually. I was the youngest of four, and the only girl. I was the brunt , the focal point, of much teasing and bullying from my older brothers and their friends as well. My mother had died in childbirth with me, so I was raised in an entirely male household. My father worked as a heavy equipment operator for a large construction company. They built highways, bridge overpasses, those sorts of things.

   Dad was great, and he worked very hard, but he had no clue at all about raising a girl. Dresses? Mary Janes? Ankle socks? Dolls? Not in our home. The boys all dressed like Dad. Flannel shirts and jeans in the winter, white t shirts and cut off worn out jeans the rest of the year. I wore their hand-me-downs, so i looked like them, and with my blond hair cropped short by Dad to save money, I looked like a boy until my body started to fill out in the eighth grade.

   We lived together on a small farm, ten acres, about six miles from the town, so it wasn’t too often that we got together with other kids to play. We made do, however, playing hide and seek, tag, cowboys and Indians, and other childhood games. We’d go ice skating on a nearby pond in the winter, and swimming and fishing there in the summer. Bobby, Jake, Tommy, and me, skinny dipping. Naked. Never gave as much as a thought to it back then. None of us did. Never was a sexual thing. They never touched me or did anything else to me. Just the way we grew up. I was quite accustomed to the sight of the male penis.

   I did have a favorite game, though, the one I loved the best, (the one I can trace my “needs” back to), and that was cowboys and Indians. I was usually the farmer’s daughter, or the settler’s daughter on a wagon train. When the Indians would attack, I was always captured, kidnaped, bound. All three of my elder brothers were quite proficient and imaginative with their techniques at binding me. Sometimes I would be tied to a tree. Other times my hands would be tied together with a rope, the end of which they would toss over a tree limb, so they could pull me up on the tips of my toes. Sometimes I would be staked out, spread eagle, on the ground, with my wrists and ankles lashed to stakes driven into the dirt.

   Again, I must make this clear to you, none of this was ever sexual. I was always fully clothed, as were my brothers. They might have their shirts off if it was a hot day, but other than that, we were all dressed. Sure, they would manhandle me during my “abductions” and when they would tie me up, but that was just part of making our role play seem more authentic. They never touched me where boys and girls are different. Yet, somehow, for some reason, unbeknownst to me back then, I always got strange and strong sensations when we played these games, whenever they would abduct me, and especially whenever they would tie me up. Odd sensations, tinglings between my legs. My face would flush. I would feel hot all over. My breath would get short and quick. Back then I just chalked it off to playing these games. Looking back now, however, I know of course, that I was really turned on by the helplessness of being totally at the mercy of the whims of others. These tinglings gradually, over the years, came to rule me. Drive me. Control my every thought.

   Bobby was the first one of us to stop playing. Right after he got his driver’s license. He and Dad fixed up an old car for him to use. Now we were a threesome. Bobby graduated high school and went right into the Marines, and Jake inherited the old junker. This left just Tommy and me. It wasn’t the same now, but Tommy was creative, and came up with some “variations” on our make believe play.

   I was thirteen now, and Tommy was seventeen. One afternoon, the summer before eighth grade, Tommy announced that I should be an Indian girl this time. A Princess daughter of the Tribal Chief. He would be a white captive of the tribe. We had never switched roles before, so I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do, and I         told him so.

   “I’ve been doing some reading in some history books about what really happened in those days,” Tommy told me. “First off, the Indians never let their prisoners keep their clothes.”

   “Really,” I asked, stunned. “You’re making this up,” I accused him.

   “No, he shot back emphatically. “It’s true. They didn’t. Also,” he added quickly. “Young Indian girls were always naked from the waist up.”

   “No they weren’t,” I countered, thinking he was teasing me.

   “Yes they were.”

   “Prove it,” I challenged him.

   Tommy showed me a book he had gotten from the library on Indian Tribes in the United States, and almost all of the drawings depicted the Indian girls topless, their small dark skinned breasts free and proud looking on their slim taut bodies.

   “Well,” I said, staring at the pictures, “I guess you’re right.’

   “I told you so, Sandy. So, do you want to play?”

   “Sure.”

   “Let’s go over to the pond,” he suggested. “Nobody will bother us over there.”

   Tommy grabbed some lengths of rope from the shed and we walked over to the pond, finding it deserted as usual.

   Without saying a word, Tommy stripped off his clothes, while I pulled my t shirt over my head. I hadn’t started wearing a bra yet, even though my breasts had developed well past the tiny bud stage. Nothing seemed strange or amiss. We had been swimming naked at the pond countless  times, so this still seemed normal to me.

   “Stake me out on the ground here,” Tommy said, as he laid down on his back. “In the sun.”

   I took some stout stakes that we had used before and using a heavy rock, I pounded them into the ground near his out stretched wrists and ankles. I wasn’t very good with the knots, though, because Tommy was able to slip them off very quickly, almost as soon as I would tie one. 

   “Let me show you how to do it,” he said, impatiently, after breaking free for the third time.

   He got up, and just as I was lying down where he had been, he stopped me, “Wait a minute, Sandy, you hafta be naked, remember?”

   “Oh yeah. Okay. I forgot,” I said. I stood up and undid my cut-offs. I slipped them and my white cotton briefs down around my ankles before stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Hair had just started to sprout that summer across my smooth mound.

   I laid down on the ground and stretched out my arms and legs towards the four stakes I had put in the ground. Tommy started with my wrists, securing them very tightly, before moving down to my ankles.

   He stood up to inspect his handiwork. “Now let me see you try and get out of that,” he dared me with a sinister smile.

   I pulled against the ropes to no avail. All that it seemed to do was make the knots get even tighter, making them chafe  against my skin. “I can’t get out, Tommy,” I assured him. “Show me how you did these knots and let me try it again on you.”

   “Not this time, Sandy,” he said, as he started to get dressed in front of me. “I never had any intension of playing the captured white man. I just wanted you to be the Indian native, naked. The way you should be.”

   “Wha........what?” I started to cry, suddenly very frightened.

   “The Indians would have left you like this for days, maybe even until you died. I’ll come back for you in a few hours or so. If you can get out of the ropes and escape, go ahead. Otherwise...........”  He scooped up my clothes and turned to leave, then, over his shoulder, he added, “Hope no one happens by and finds you like this! They’d be able to do anything they wanted with you.”

   “Tommy, please,” I begged him, shaking in fear. “Please don’t leave me here. Not like this. I’m scared.”

   “No way. You’re my prisoner, Sis, just like we’ve always played before. It’s just more authentic and realistic this way!”

   He left me. Alone. Naked. Arms pulled wide, legs open, in the brutal July sun. I pulled and struggled as hard as I could, but I couldn’t get free. It was then that I noticed something. The harder I pulled against the ropes, the more intense the sensations in my groin became. I stopped pulling at the stakes as the reality swept over me,.........I like this!”

   The more I thought about the possibility of someone coming along and finding me helpless like this, the more I thought about being discovered, the more helpless I felt. The more the sun beat down on me, burning me, drenching me in my sweat, the more turned on I became. Suddenly, I was overcome with a strong desire to touch myself between my legs. I had never felt that urge before, but it was strong and very clear, and quite undeniable. The need and urgency were unquestionable, but with my hands bound as they were, I was incapable of doing anything about it. The frustration was overwhelming. I kept trying to get a hand free, to scratch this new itch that welled up deep inside of me, but Tommy had been far too good with his knots for that.

   Time passed by quickly for me. What seemed like mere minutes had passed since Tommy had walked away and left me alone, when a shadow fell across my sun burned face. I opened my eyes to see my brother standing above me.                                                        

   “I thought so,” he smirked, his face an evil smile unlike any I had seen before. He looked down at my dusty sweat covered form. “You like this!”

   “I do not,” I protested, mortified that he somehow knew.

   “Oh yes you do. I can tell. Your pussy is dripping wet. There’s even a big ‘ole wet spot on the dirt between your legs. If you don’t like this so much, then I’d like you to tell me where’d that come from, huh?”

   “I.......I had to pee,” I said quickly, jumping at the first excuse that popped into my addled mind.

   “No you didn’t. You’re hot! You like being tied up. I always expected as much. Jake and Bobby did too. But this proves it. Wait till I tell them!”

   I screamed at him, denying it. Saying he was wrong, to untie me. Let me go. But all the while I knew he was right. I was pulling at the ropes frantically. But he was only half right. I not only liked it, I loved it!

   We played that game together a few more times, just the two of us. No more pretense about role playing anymore, though. Just Tommy tying me up, naked, and leaving me for hours at a time. He took me to the pond on a cold rainy afternoon that fall, and then once in December during a heavy snow storm, the harsh environment adding to my helplessness. I had long stopped my false protests. I enjoyed it. He knew it. I knew it. No more pretending. Tommy was just enabling me to learn more about my true self.                                                                

   It all stopped that January. Dad was killed in a construction accident. Jake had followed Bobby into the Marines, and Tommy joined the Army. Alone now, I was sent to live with my grandmother on my Mother’s side.

   An elderly widow, Grandma Jo had raised three daughters, one of whom I knew. My father and that side of the family could not be described as close. Mom was the youngest of the family, just as I had been.

   Grandma lived in a modest old ranch house with a detached two car garage, located in rural northwestern Connecticut. One side of the garage was where she parked her car. The other side was the workshop that my grandfather used. It had been set up well, as he was a more than competent handyman and tinkerer.

   Dad had left my siblings and me pretty well off, as he had had the foresight to take out a life insurance policy with a million dollar accidental death clause attached to it. Each of us received a quarter of a million dollars when the estate was settled. Bobby, Jake, and Tommy had each sent Grandma Jo $30,000 to help her with my care and up bringing. She had been living on a small pension and Social Security, so the addition of a teenage girl into her life was a big financial burden.

   I have to say, right away, in all due fairness, that Grandma Jo tried her best to make me feel welcome in her home. She helped me unpack my belongings when I arrived, and helped me fold and put my clothes in the closet of my bedroom. She even told me that this was the same room my Mother had grown up in.

   “What kind of clothes are these,” she asked me as she opened my suitcase?

   “They’re my clothes,”I snapped at her defensively, slamming my beaten up suitcase shut, narrowly missing catching her frail hand in it. Not sure of what she meant.

   “But these are all boy’s clothes,” she explained patiently, lifting the top of the suitcase again, patiently.  “Don’t you have any girl’s clothes?”

   “No,” I replied quietly, suddenly feeling very ashamed. “Th.....this is all I have.”

   Grandma Jo put her arm around me, comforting me, sensing my discomfort, as she said, “Well don’t you worry about it, Sandy. Once we get you all settled in here we’ll see that we get you some nice new clothes to wear!”

   She got me enrolled in the local junior high school, but she let me stay home the rest of that first week to give me more time to get used to my new, and permanent situation, before adding the challenge of a strange school and strange new kids. I basically just stayed in my room, alternating between sleeping and crying, venturing out just for meals. I felt so alone. So abandoned. Grandma hugged me a lot that week, and even though I understood how much she was trying to help me, comfort me, it really didn’t do any good at all.

   Friday afternoon, I heard a car pull into the driveway and come to a stop. I peeked through the curtains and saw a young woman getting out of the fancy looking red car. I was only able to catch a quick glimpse of her as she walked to the front door, but she was dressed really well, and she looked absolutely beautiful.

   I heard the doorbell ring, and heard Grandma Jo call out, “Come on in, Kendra, I’m in the kitchen.”

    “Hi Grandma Jo,” the woman said. I couldn’t hear any more of their conversation, as I had my bedroom door shut tight.

   About five minutes passed, and then there was a knock at my door, followed by, “Can I come in, Sandy?” It was Grandma Jo.

   I didn’t answer, and she didn’t wait for a reply, slowly turning the door handle and pushing it open enough to stick her head in through the crack. “Honey, there’s someone here I want you to meet. She’s your cousin. Her Mom and your Mom were sisters. Come on out here now and meet her.”

   “I don’t want to,” I said defiantly.

   “Sure you do,” she countered, as she walked over to my bed and took my hand. “She’s come a long way to meet you. The least you can do it be polite.”

   “Hi Sandy. I’m your cousin Kendra,” the woman said as we entered the small living room.

   “Hi,” I returned, eyeing her. She was beautiful! Long auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders and halfway down her back. Her face was done up like some model’s in a fashion magazine, with ruby red lipstick and eye shadow to highlight her sky blue eyes. She had a great figure and liked to show it off as well. She was wearing a very tight and very short spaghetti strap top that showed off her flat belly and left her pierced belly button exposed. She was wearing very tight designer blue jeans that looked like they had been spray painted on her long shapely legs and butt. Pointed high heels adorned her small feet.

   She grabbed me in a tight bear hug and said, “Welcome home, Sandy.”

   I didn’t reply, nor did I return the hug.

   “Kendra came to take you out shopping for new clothes, Sandy,” Grandma Jo announced excitedly. “As you can tell,” she smiled at Kendra, “She has a great eye for fashion!”

   I looked at my new found cousin again, and my head sank down. “I can’t l....look like her,” I protested. “I’m...........I’m ugly. Sh.........she’s.....beau.......beautiful.”

   “Your not ugly at all, Sandy,” Kendra jumped in, hugging me again. “You’re very pretty. We just need to show you how to bring our your best qualities is all. Besides, it’ll be fun getting to know each other. C’mon, what do you say?”

   “Huh?”

   “I’m taking you shopping! New Clothes, shoes, make-up......The works!”

   “I don’t want to,”I told her, but only half-heartedly.

   “Of course you do. C’mon.....I’ll even let you pick out where we got to eat!”

   She never gave me a chance to resound to that last sentence. Kendra bussed Grandma Jo on the cheek in a whirlwind and said, “We’ll be back before eleven.” Then she grabbed her coat and over sized black leather shoulder bag and tossed my coat to me, saying, “Let’s go, honey, The mall’s a-waiting!”

   I didn’t speak at all during the drive to the mall, but it didn’t seem to bother Kendra much, as she spoke more than enough for the both of us. I don’t remember most of what she was talking about, but I do recall, quite clearly, one of the things she brought up. She was talking about her Aunt, my Mother.

   “I remember your Mom,” she said, not taking her eyes from the road. “We used to get together a lot with your Mom and Dad and your brothers when I was little.

   “You know,” she continued, this time glancing over at me to see if I was listening to her,” This whole thing isn’t easy on Grandma Jo either. Your Mom’s death was really hard on her. She lost Grandpa the same year. And you look a lot like your Mom did when she was young. I remember seeing pictures of her as a kid on Grandma’s old piano. This is really tough for her, and I know its tough for you too, but try and cut her some slack. She’s really trying her best to make you feel at home now with her. She loves you.”

   I don’t remember what she said after that, I was crying too hard. Kendra had hit a nerve and a floodgate of emotion poured out through it. She let me cry it out the rest of the trip to the mall until she parked her car. Then she leaned over, handed me some tissues, and gave me a big hug. “We’re all here for you Sandy. You have to know that, and you have to let us help you get through this.”

   I cried some more, but held onto her very tight until I was cried out. Then Kendra pulled back and said, C’mon, let’s have some fun! We’ll start at the underwear shop,” she declared as we got out of the car and headed across the parking lot. “We’ll work from the ground up.”  

   The store was called “Fanzy Pantz”, and there were no other customers in it when we walked in. “Hi Franny,” Kendra called out to the girl, behind the counter.

  “Hey, Kendra,” she called back, looking up from some magazine. “How are you?”

   “Great, thanks. Hey, this is my cousin, Sandy. We’re here to get her started with a whole new wardrobe.”

   “Great, what do you need?”

   “What size are you,” Kendra asked me?

    “I....I don’t know”, I said, embarrassed.

   “You don’t,” Kendra asked? Then quickly catching herself, and putting her arm around me she added, “That’s okay.”

   “We’ll need you to get her measurements, Franny, before we start.”

   “Okay, Kendra. Why don’t you two go into the third dressing room, there’s more ‘room’ back there. (She put an odd inflection of the word room). “I’m waiting for Carol to get back from her dinner break, she’s due any minute, then I’ll come and help you two.”

   “Great, thanks,” Kendra said, taking my hand and leading me to the back of the store.

   “We just got a new line of co-ordinates in I think you’d be interested in,” Franny called out.

   “Ooh, that’s sounds like fun,” Kendra responded, turning to face the salesgirl. “I’d love to see them. You know me!”

   We walked into the dressing room and Kendra closed the door, saying, “Get undressed Sandy, and Franny will take some measurements to see what size you are.”

   Kendra immediately began to disrobe herself. In a fluid motion, her small tank top was over head and on lying on a wooden bench. She wore a skimpy pink lace demi-bra, the kind that pushed her breasts up high and out. I stood agog as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her smooth tanned long legs. She stepped out of them and stood up straight, showing her body to me. The underwear was the same pink as the bra, and was hardly more that a small triangular patch of material hardly hiding her mound. She placed her hands on her hips and said, “I lived in a sorority house  for four years, Sweetie, girls of all shapes and sizes everywhere. Believe me, I’ve seen it all. Now get undressed!”

   I undid the buttons on my worn flannel shirt and handed it to her, revealing a white cotton men’s tank top I wore underneath. Kendra’s eyes bore into me as she waited. The jeans were next, generic men’s jeans.

   I stood there, in my tank top and a pair of men’s white cotton briefs looking at Kendra. We were a study in contrasts.

   Franny opened the door at that moment, “I’ve got my tape measure and some things for you to try on Kendra,” she said. “Carol’s back to watch the shop, so we have as much time as we need,” she winked at Kendra.

   “Sounds great,” Kendra said, reaching behind her back to unfasten her bra.  Her breasts spilled from the dainty fabric, and I saw that she had jewelry in her nipples. I was stunned!

   “Ooh, are these new,” Franny asked, fingering the barbell with the chain looping under Kendra’s nipple. She tugged on the delicate chain a little and said, “I like them a lot. But I want you to check out the ones I’ve got, though!”

   Franny yanked her top off and tossed it to the floor. She was wearing no bra. Her nipples were encased in  cone shaped cages Each nipple had a barbell pierced through it, and the nipples had been pulled way up into the metal cages, so that the barbells held the nipples stretched out taut!

   “Oh my God, Franny,” Kendra said, astounded. “I adore them, they’re amazing! When did you get them?”

   “I got them a few weeks ago. I really love them but they’re really hard to get used to. I can still only wear them for a few hours a day before they hurt too much and I have to take them off.”

   I was struck dumb by my cousin and her friend. I had never seen any female breasts except my own before, and to see them with jewelry in them was too much.

   “Check this out,” Kendra said, turning her back to us, revealing a tattoo across the small of her back. She stepped out of her all but non-existent panties, stood up and turned back to face us, naked.  Her dark brown pubic hair was nothing more than a half inch wide vertical strip beginning at the top of her cleft, and extending about three inches up. She was smooth everywhere else. “Like it?”

   Franny bent over and felt the skin of Kendra’s mound. I was floored by her boldness.

   “Wow, and that’s after how many laser treatments?”

   “I’ve had it done three times now, once every two weeks. It really doesn’t grow back, Franny. No more stubble, errant or ingrown hairs. Nothing. When I get tired of this landing strip, I’ll probably have it all done and be bald for life!”

   They hugged each other for a moment, and then Kendra said, “Why don’t you get Sandy’s measurements while I try on these neat things you brought in.”

   “Okay,” Franny said, breaking the embrace. Then to me, “Let’s lose that shirt and pants, Sandy. I need to get good measurements so I’ll know what to bring in for you to try on.”

   I was so out of it fm all I had seen, that I robotically complied, removing my t shirt and briefs, even going so far as to take off my sneakers and socks.

   “You’d better practice what you preach, Kendra,” Franny said, looking at my pubic hair. (By then, it had completely covered my mound, spreading out high and wide. I never knew about shaving my legs, so they were also covered in hair, ankles to hips.

   “We just met, Franny. I’ll take care of her. Just get some measurements, and write them down, okay, please,  it’ll save us time at the other stores we have to hit tonight.”

   “Okay.”

   Franny ran her tape measure around me quickly, calling out, “She’s a 33B, waist 22, hips 26. I’ve got a lot of outfits that’ll be cute on you, Sandy,” she said. “What colors do you like?”        

   “I ...I don’t know,” I replied, still not over all I had just seen. “R....red’s my favorite one, I guess.”

   “Okay, I’ll be back in a jif, you wait here with Kendra.” Franny pulled her top back on and disappeared. I turned to watch my cousin trying on bras and panties. Each one sexier and more revealing than the last.

   “Isn’t this fun?” Kendra asked. She was facing me in an incredibly sexy matching purple and blue bra and panties, all lacy, minuscule, and exposing much of her fabulous body. “What do you think of this set? I love it,” she confessed, before I had a chance to answer her rhetorical question.

   Franny returned a few minutes later with many sets of bras, panties, things, teddies, camisoles; some in matching sets, and some as separates.

   Franny and Kendra gave me their undivided attention as I tried each and every one of the items on. I picked a few things I liked, and Kendra selected many more items to the ones we would take.

   Before she got dressed again, Kendra and Franny kissed, long and hard, mouths open, hands roaming each other’s bodies.

   At the check out counter, Franny rang it all up, including a few things Kendra picked up for herself. I was astounded when I saw the register total at $447. Sensing my shock, Kendra said, “Don’t you worry about the money. It’s all taken care of.”

   She grabbed a shopping bag and I grabbed one, and we were off. A boutique was next on her agenda for jeans, tops, skirts, sweats, shoes, sneakers, and boots. Everything I tried on fit like Kendra’s clothes, tightly sculpting my body, revealing what was beneath. Three pairs of sweat pants, in lavender, pink, and white, had the word “WET” embroidered across the butt. “These are hot,” Kendra declared as I modeled them, naked underneath. The bill in that one store was over $1200, and we had to make a trip to the car to stow all the clothes before going back into the mall for some food.

   We ate dinner at a Chinese place at the food court. “So what do you think, Sandy?” Kendra asked. “Having fun?”

   “Yes, thank you, I really am.”

   “I was just thinking,” she mused, “Do you have a computer, because I know Grandma Jo doesn’t have one, and you’ll really need one for school work and keeping in touch with people with emails and tweets.”

    “No. I don’t. We didn’t have one at home, but I’m pretty sure Bobby and Jake each have one.” I fell silent for a minute. “C...can I ask you something?” I half whispered.

   “Sure,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “No secrets between us, cousin.”

   “Are you.............” The silence was deafening.

    “Lesbian?” she finished the question for me, not seeming the least bit put off by the question.

   My head dropped in embarrassment.

    “No. I’m not strictly lesbian. I’m bi-sexual. That’s the best of both worlds. I like woman and men, equally.”

   I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, then I asked, “Did it hurt to get the........the jewelry in....in  your...........”

   “Nipples?”

   “Y...yes.”

   “Yes. It hurt. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but the tattoo hurt much more. The nipple piercing is quick, like having your ears done. A little sting, then it’s over. The belly button hurt too, and took a while to heal.”

   I didn’t say anything.

   “If you’re thinking about doing it, Sandy, you’re too young. You need to wait until you’re older. We could get your ears done while we’re here. That would be fine. Your belly button too, if you want. But nothing in your nipples or down below, okay?”

   It took a minute to sink in. “You mean I can get my ears and belly button pierced? Tonight?”

   “Sure. There’s lot’s of places here at the mall that do it, although Franny would be the one I’d suggest, as she does lot’s of them. We could select some starter pieces and go back and let her do you, if you want.”

   I felt that special tingle starting to build up between my legs as I thought about getting pierced, and said, “Could we? Please?”

    “Sure, it’s easy. But first I think we need to get you a computer for home. I’ll text Franny and tell her our plans so she can expect us later.

    After we finished eating, Kendra took me to a few more stores to get cosmetics, jewelry, a computer, and to select some starter jewelry for my ears and belly button. That done,  we ran back to “Fanzy Panz” and got there just before it closed.

   “Looks like we made it just in time, Franny,” Kendra said

   “I’m just closing up, Kendra, I got your text, but wasn’t sure what you meant, what do you need?”

 

   “Sandy wants to get her ears and naval pierced, and I don’t want to take a chance with some of those kids in the mall kiosks doing it.”

   “It’s closing time, Kendra,” she paused for a few seconds, and then with a conspiratorial looking smile she added, “So what’s it worth to you?”

   Kendra smiled back at her, knowingly, “Well, what, exactly,  do you have in mind, Franny? A little tit for tat, so to speak? One hand washes the other?”

   “I’ll pierce her ears and belly button in exchange for a nice long tongue lashing from you, ........

while Sandy watches us!”

   “It’s okay with me,” Kendra agreed quickly. “Is that okay with you too, Sandy?”

   “I....I guess so,” I replied, not too sure about what was going on, but I could feel wetness building in my groin, so I didn’t object.

   “One other thing, though,” she added quickly, before letting us in under the roll down gate, “I want you both to be naked the whole time!”

    “It’s a deal, but I then want something else in return as well ,” Kendra countered quickly..

   “What’s that?”

       

   “You have to trim up Sandy’s bush first, nice and neat, and shape it up as well. Also, I want you to show her how to properly shave her pits and legs! Then I’ll see to all your needs, Baby, nice and slowly, just the way you like it. ”

   “You got it, Sweetie,” Franny readily agreed.  “C’mon in and go in the back and get yourselves comfortable. I’ll just kill the lights out here so we don’t have to worry about any of those dorky mall rent-a-cops looking in on us while we all have a little fun.”

   Kendra and I headed back to the same dressing room as before and took all our clothes off. This time there was no hesitation or shame on my part. My crotch was actually on fire, with the same strong sensations I used to feel many months ago when Tommy used to tie me up naked.

   Franny joined as, bringing a reclining chair with her. “Get in the chair and spread your legs, Cutie Pie,” she said to me, as she started getting undressed as well.

   Franny knelt between my wide spread legs, and using a comb and scissors first, she trimmed my entire pubic bush very short. Then, very deftly, with a razor, she sculpted  the shortened hair into a heart shape.

   “You’re loving this attention, aren’t you honey?,” Franny laughed.

   “Wh....what do you mean,” I stammered, my face going flush.

   “You’re soaking wet down here! Smells nice and ripe too.”

   “Hey,” Kendra butted in. “She’s only thirteen.  Just trim that bush up and then pierce her belly button and ears. I’ll see to your needs, Franny”

   “Okay, okay. Just making an observation is all.  Don’t shoot the messenger....”

   Franny finished up with my pubic hair and then stood up. “ I’ll teach you how to shave your pits first, then your legs.”

    She lathered me up and instructed me how to use the razor, which direction to go, keeping it clean. She did one of my pits and then she watched while I did the other. We did the same thing with my legs, she doing one, and instructing while I did the other. “If you do this every few days it’s a lot easier than when it gets too long,” she told me. “ Now,  We’ll pierce your ears first. You have some starter studs?”

   “Right here,” Kendra said, handing a small paper bag to her.

   Franny cleaned the studs and my ear lobes with alcohol and then pierced them. It really didn’t hurt at all. Quick burning sensation, and then nothing. Franny set the studs and handed me a mirror to have a look. A smile broke out across my face, the first in a long time.

    The belly button piercing hurt more, quite a lot, but I loved how it looked, and couldn’t wait to get different jewelry for when it was all healed up.

   I got up from the chair and was replaced by Franny, who willingly opened her legs wide to Kendra. True to her word, Kendra knelt between the smooth legs, rubbing them gently from calf to hip, and lowered her head into Franny’s pussy. I had never seen this before, and somehow, instinctively, my hand found my own pussy and began rubbing.

   I was transfixed and yet at the same time, I was lost in the sweet warm tingling feelings deep inside me as my fingers pinched and caressed my clit. I came, for the first time in my young life, I came, and cried out as I did, which caused Kendra to stop what she was doing at look up. I also broke Franny’s reverie as she opened her eyes to see what was happening. I was instantly ashamed, but the two of them just smiled knowingly, and went back to what they were doing, as if I didn’t exist. Within a matter of two minutes, my hand was back in my own sweet moisture, and I was doing myself again.

   Franny was moaning and writing to Kendra’s skilled talents with her tongue, while she flicked the pulled on the nipple cages herself.

  I came three more times before Kendra finally brought Franny off.

   On the way home to Grandma Jo’s, Kendra said, “So, Sandy, did you have a good time at the mall?”

  

   I smiled and said, “The best time of my life. I hope we get to do it again sometime really really soon! Thank you so much!” I leaned over and kissed Kendra on the cheek.

   When I started school that Monday, I was a completely different person than I had been back home. I wore the tightest white cotton top, with a lacy black push up bra underneath, and a pair of form fitting black sweats with that “Wet” logo across my backside. I’m not sure what first impressions I made with all the teachers kids, but I’m sure they formed them quickly.